Shadowed Choices
by BlackCatHikari
Summary: ON HIATUS. "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." When Dumbledore's advice haunts Harry over the holidays, what choices will he make that will change his future?
1. The First Taste of Freedom

Hey all. First, **if you read this when I first uploaded it, note that this chapter is now different.** Originally I was kinda disappointed when nobody reviewed the old first chapter but then I figured that if no one was reviewing it then it probably wasn't very good. Slept on it, went back and reread it and, honestly - it was rather boring, wasn't it? So I went and ranted at a friend and kinda worked out what I needed to do and now there's a new first chapter! Or two... Yeah. So if you read this when I first published the story, note that what you read is now the third chapter or something and is being majorly edited.

**This has also now been beta'd by the amazing SomeLover (whose fic people should go read. :D). **

**From the original A/N: **I probably shouldn't be starting _yet another_ story, but this is one that's been in my head for something like a year so I figured I should probably write it one of these days. The plot is sorta similar to a few fanfics I've read but I'm trying to twist things to make them new. No idea how long this will be though - I haven't planned that far ahead. The first few chapters are all planned out in my head though, so we'll see what happens.

Whether you like it or not, please review! I'd love to hear what people have to say. I hope you enjoy!

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"Boy! Get down here, now!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon!"

Harry Potter sighed. It was the first day of the summer holidays and already he was sick of the Dursleys. Vernon had barely let him say goodbye to his friends (Ginny had sobbed one last, "Thank you," into his shoulder) then had ranted and yelled at him the whole trip home. It had been an absolute nightmare, the atmosphere in the car tense and hostile in a way that had reminded Harry of how he had been treated earlier that year after his Parseltongue ability was revealed. On top of that, none of them had slept very much last night. It was barely eight o'clock now! Though, thankfully, this summer was going to be a lot better than the last. Mainly because-

"BOY!"

Groaning, Harry pushed himself up from his bed and quietly trudged downstairs, despite wanting to stomp petulantly. That would only get him in trouble, and he didn't want to stress Vernon any more than necessary. The man was a ticking time bomb.

The Dursleys were standing at the foot of the stairs. Petunia, ever resplendent in her horsey, housewifely beauty, was fussing over Dudley. Unfortunately her attempts at straightening his collar and getting his shirt to sit nicely over his bulging stomach were failing miserably. Vernon was on the phone, face already purpling as he raved at the poor soul on the other end of the line. It was something about being double booked and demanding an upgrade.

Not needing any directions, Harry wove his way through the piles of luggage, snagged the two bags closest to the door and lugged them out to the car, ignoring Petunia's screech as he tapped the door wider with his foot. Hefting the bags into the boot was difficult, but one concession of the Dursleys having so many bags was that each was lighter than it might otherwise have been. The fact that Vernon would bring out the heaviest cases himself also helped enormously. Supposedly he only did it because he didn't want the cases or their contents damaged if Harry dropped them.

Back to the house, grab two more, ignore Petunia's indignant cry as he tracked dirt in, back to the car, load cases into the boot and repeat. By the time he had finished his third and final trek the boot was almost overflowing, yet there was still the two largest suitcases to go. Thankfully they weren't Harry's problem.

Harry had to hide a grin when he returned to the house just as Petunia started scrubbing Dudley's face in a vain attempt to remove a food stain. Dudley tried to squirm away as soon as he spotted Harry in the doorway, but Petunia quickly offered him a lolly and he sulkily submitted to the cleaning. Harry was oddly reminded of one of the mangy cats he'd seen at Mrs Figg's last summer, a skinny thing whose litter had not wanted to cooperate with her at all.

"Now, boy." Vernon appeared at the top of the stairs, briefcase in one hand, lumbering his way down as he spoke. "There's food in the fridge and some money in the fruit bowl. That money's strictly for necessities mind you. Keep every docket and I'll add them up when we get home. So don't you dare swindle me, boy, or you'll regret every cent of it!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry carefully maintained his obedient mask as he laughed inside. Him, steal money? When he had a whole vault of gold only a bus ride away? Vernon had nothing to worry about there.

Vernon's beady little eyes narrowed at Harry's easy answer before he caught sight of the clock on the other side of the hall and scowled. "Alright, time to go. Have we got everything?" He reached down to pick up one suitcase then extended the handle on the other so he could roll it out to the car. Harry smiled inwardly. He could easily have taken those two cases out as well, but he wasn't going to complain when Vernon insisted on doing it himself. It was nice to see his Uncle doing some of the heavy lifting for once.

"Don't forget to call Mrs Figg," Vernon half-shouted over one shoulder as he hefted the suitcases into the car. One went into the back seat with Dudley who immediately began to complain over his new lack of space, despite the fact that he still had over half the seat to himself. Petunia climbed in the front passenger seat, leaning around to talk Dudley out of his tantrum, and Vernon finally turned his full attention back to Harry, glaring at the boy framed in the doorway. "You're to ring her as soon as we leave, next Saturday and Saturday week, remember. We'll be back the day after that. Don't make a mess, don't annoy the neighbours, do your chores and especially no freaky stuff!" Vernon's voice had risen during his rant but dropped at the last point, his eyes darting around to check for nosy neighbours. "You understand me, boy?"

Hiding a smile, Harry nodded his head. "Yes sir."

Vernon gave him one last look but then Petunia called his name from where she was sitting primly in the passenger seat, Dudley excitedly nattering on behind her, and Vernon squeezed himself into the driver's seat. The car coughed and groaned in what Harry imagined was a complaint against the weight of the Dursleys and their luggage and then they were gone.

Harry stood on the door step watching them leave until the car turned the corner four blocks up and disappeared from view. He waited a couple more minutes in case the Dursleys realised they'd forgotten something and came back but when five minutes passed and there was no sign of them Harry felt a smile grow on his face.

With a bounce in his step and a wide grin on his lips, Harry slowly turned, stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He glanced around the entrance hall, taking in the nice quiet, peaceful atmosphere, and couldn't help but let out a cheer.

It was the holidays, the Dursleys were gone and he had the house to himself for two weeks.

This was going to be _great_.


	2. Questioning One's Control

Hey all. Thanks to those who reviewed/favourited/alerted! Second chapter is done (I've read over it but it's late and I'm half asleep so please tell me if I've missed anything!) and the third, fourth and fifth are on their way. I don't particularly like the ending of this chapter, but I couldn't think of anything else. And it needs to flow on to the next chapter, which means it has to end like this.

Again, this chapter had been beta'd by the amazing **SomeLover**. :D

Anyway, enjoy! And please review. I do like to know what I'm doing right, or even wrong.

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Harry didn't bother with ringing Mrs Figg straight away, despite having told his Uncle that he would. With the Dursleys gone, the first thing he did was dash upstairs to his Aunt and Uncle's had locked Harry's trunk in the cupboard under the stairs as soon as they returned home yesterday but he'd forgotten to distract Harry while he went and hid the key.

The Dursleys' bedroom was relatively neat, a few casualties of last minute packing lying around, and it was themed much like the rest of the house - homey, fashionable and with just a hint of that up-market snobbishness coming through in the expensive carpet and upholstery. Even the beige bedspread and pillowcases were chosen for how expensive they looked; tassels dangled from the end of the bed and the four corners of each pillow, matching the cord holding the heavy brocade curtains back to let the sunlight in.

Small pictures set in elaborate frames sat on the mahogany dresser and it was toward them that Harry headed. He'd seen Vernon rooting around the photos yesterday, but he'd been unable to see exactly where his uncle had hidden the key. Vernon's bulk did a good job of hiding his hands from sight.

Harry was careful as he searched through the various nicknacks scattered between the frames to leave everything exactly where it was, or as close as he could get after inspecting it. His Aunt and Uncle's room was the one place where he wasn't allowed, though he had even been into Dudley's room occasionally when he had to clean it or fetch something from there. If the Dursleys came back and noticed something was out of place he'd cop the worst hiding of his life and he really would like to avoid that if possible.

A small bauble shifted - a snow globe, perhaps, but without the liquid and glitter - and the slight sound of metal clicking on metal met Harry's ears. He froze for a moment, surprised and still on edge in case the Dursleys came back unexpectedly, then cheered. With a gleeful smile Harry swooped on the small key that had been revealed.

The key was old and rusty, and slightly worn around the edges. Vernon had had to wrestle with the door for a minute before it would shut yesterday, Harry receiving a dirty look for that even though it wasn't his fault. Not consciously anyway.

Harry cradled the key in one hand as he dashed down the stairs, terrified of losing it. Not only would he be unable to access his school things but Vernon would notice the missing key and know what Harry had done.

Skidding around the bottom step, Harry slid to a stop in front of the cupboard door. He stood there panting for a moment then gently, carefully and with hidden excitement pushed the key into the lock and turned it.

The door creaked as it drifted open an inch, light spilling into the darkness to highlight a sliver of wood, and then Harry was yanking the door open and grinning madly at the sight of his trunk.

Dragging the trunk up the stairs to his room was quickly decided against. At only twelve years old Harry was far too small for such a feat, so instead he sat down and started removing things from it.

His wand came out first, reverently lifted from where it had been wrapped in one of his school robes. Although it had only been gone from his person for one day, the sense of relief Harry felt from having it back was almost overwhelming. He stroked the knobbly wood, memorising the feel of it, thankful for it in a way he hadn't been in a long time. The magic that flowed through his body and the wand hummed in pleasure, and Harry sighed. Magic was so amazing.

Next to be dug out of the trunk were his writing equipment and school books from both his first and second years. He had homework that needed to be done, preferably before the Dursleys returned, and there were a few things that he wouldn't mind looking up again: spells that he'd had problems with, theories he hadn't understood and potions that had just gone completely wrong for some unknown reason. Hermione would be proud.

After much consideration, Harry also removed the Invisibility Cloak and photo album. Everything else could be replaced, but if Uncle Vernon someday decided to destroy his trunk in a fit of anger, Harry would much rather have those two things somewhere safe. They were, after all, all that he had left of his parents and you never knew when the Cloak would come in handy.

Wand in his pocket and books, parchment, quills, Cloak and album piled high in his arms, Harry carefully picked his way around the entry, up the stairs and into his bedroom, dumping his armload on the small desk. A startled hoot from Hedwig's cage made Harry jump, the owl staring balefully at him.

"Sorry girl." Harry flicked the cage's door open, holding out his hand for her to perch on. Hedwig jumped from the doorway to his arm, clawing her way up his arm until she reached his shoulder. There, she buried her beak in his hair, her grooming of him interspersed with quiet hoots.

Harry laughed at Hedwig's mothering and ran a gentle hand over her feathers, returning the favour, before turning back to his stack of books. He had two weeks in which to devour what he could as after that any kind of studying would have to be done in the dead of night and he knew from experience how annoying that could be. First on the agenda was to make a list of everything he _had_ to do (homework, mainly, though some chores as well), what he probably should do (rereading those few things that he hadn't understood last year, unfortunately) and what he wanted to do (such as looking up that jinx Quirrel had mentioned in first year, or the charm Flitwick had breezed past a few weeks ago..).

Hedwig jumped from his shoulder when he moved to sit down, wings spread the slightest so she could glide down to the desk's surface. She began to preen her wings as Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, starting his to do list with his chores.

_Weed the garden_

_Clean the kitchen, hall and lounge room_

_Dust the fireplace's mantle..._

An hour and twenty something entries later Harry was busy staring blankly at the wall. He'd gotten to_ 'Write to Ron and Hermione'_ before his mind had drifted off, reminiscing over the school year and wishing he wouldn't be separated from his friends for so long. Many a time he had considered owling someone and asking to stay over for the duration of the holidays, despite knowing that the Weasleys needed time with Ginny, but he knew none of them would agree. Not for the whole holidays at least. Dumbledore had sent him back to his family, presumably for a good reason, and he didn't think anyone of his friends would want to go against Dumbledore's wishes.

Dumbledore. Harry had been trying to not think about the Headmaster because that train of thought inevitably lead him to remembering their discussion at the end of last year. Riddle's words down the in Chamber of Secrets still haunted Harry, but so did Dumbledore's. It was true that there were certain similarities between Tom Riddle and he which could not be ignored, but now Harry was left wondering just how many of those similarities were because of something he had chosen. Or someone else - his parents, for example - had chosen. Dumbledore, Voldemort, the Ministry - the list went on. Harry liked the idea of being able to control his own life so the possibility that his control was only partial - that most of his life was being controlled by someone else - was frightening. He was both curious and yet afraid of the answer, and that just added to his annoyance with the situation. Hence why he was trying to forget the whole thing. Maybe it would go away if he ignored it long enough.

A sharp pain in his hand made him shout and reflexively loosen his grip. His eyes flickered downwards and Harry glared at Hedwig, slightly confused. Hedwig just gave an admonishing hoot and kicked out with one foot, indicating the quill Harry had dropped. A quill which was now looking rather crushed, though the stem of the feather hadn't snapped. Smiling wryly Harry gently picked up the quill and set to straightening the fluffy strands of the feather, Hedwig watching closely as if to appraise his work.

"That good, girl?" Finished, Harry held the quill out for Hedwig to inspect. She stared at it, glanced up at him, then turned her head away with a soft, derisive sound. "Not quite?" Harry asked, chuckling. He set the feather down and reached for Hedwig, running a hand over her feathery head instead. "It's lucky there's no one else here or they'd think I was going spare, talking to you like this. But you're smarter than everyone thinks, aren't you. You know what I'm saying."

Hedwig didn't move for a moment, silent, but then her head turned slightly, leaning in to Harry's hand. Forgiven, Harry smiled wistfully at Hedwig. "I'm lucky you're here with me, or else I'd be all alone." Fingers still carding through the soft feathers, Harry turned to stare out the window to watch the freely drifting clouds go by.

"Do you think we'll be lonely these holidays, Hedwig?"

Head swiveling quickly, Hedwig regarded him with a curious stare. Harry just stared back, using his free hand to prop his head up. "I mean, it's great that the Dursleys are gone but it also means that I won't really see any other people for two weeks unless I can think of somewhere to go or something to do. Even if I did, I feel so... different here, so out of place, that I'm not sure I'd ever fit in anywhere. The muggle world is completely different to ours after all.

There was silence for a minute, then two as they stared at each other but then Harry sighed. "It would be nice to have someone to talk to."

Hedwig continued to stare at him even when Harry's gaze slipped back to watching the sky. Time passed, Harry's fingers unconsciously continuing their petting, then, suddenly, Hedwig pulled back, surging forward a moment later to jump onto Harry's hand and claw her way up his arm again. Startled and cringing slightly at the unexpected pain, slight as it was, Harry tried to crane his neck to stare at his owl. "Hedwig? What-"

Harry was cut off by a soft hoot and an affectionate nip to his ear. Then, with a powerful stroke of her wings, Hedwig was soaring across his room and out the window.

Blinking incredulously, Harry kept staring after her for a minute. Then, with a sigh and several lazy movements, Harry crossed his arms on his desk and dropped his head to rest on them, eyes falling on the pile of homework just waiting to be done.

"Great. Now I'm even more alone."


	3. The Results of Boredom

Hey all! To the four people who reviewed (especially Ninja, who reviewed twice!) thank you! I like hearing what people think, whether it be good or bad, long or short.

To anyone who read the original first chapter, this is going to look very familiar. Don't worry, the next chapter is already written and only needs some tweaking, so it won't be long until it's up. The short chapter lengths are still annoying me, but I suppose that will work itself out. Anyway, enjoy!

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Harry Potter was bored. Not that that was so unusual, it being the summer holidays, but this was worse than usual.

Surprisingly, Harry was starting to actually miss the Dursleys. Sure, they were the worst guardians ever, but at least they gave him some human interaction. Since Hedwig had left two days before Harry had had nothing to do and no one to talk to. Even the list of chores the Dursleys had left him had looked promising in staving off boredom, but he'd done most of them already and there wasn't much point in cleaning the majority of the house until the day before they got back or he'd just have to clean it all twice.

Now Harry was lying on the ratty mattress in his bedroom staring out the window. Thankfully the Dursleys hadn't replaced the bars on his window, but it did nothing to lessen the fact that he was still a prisoner in this house. To him, the wide, open sky was painfully taunting as it was beautiful.

Unable to escape, Harry had turned to letting his mind wander instead. After ringing Mrs Figg on Saturday (a few hours after the Dursleys had left, but she hadn't minded) he had been content to work in the garden and do homework, eventually surfacing from his room again to make himself some dinner from the scraps the Dursleys had left him. He had made a note to go shopping the day after and had retired to bed early.

The next day passed in much the same way, though by lunchtime Harry was already starting to develop the signs of going stir crazy. Now so used to Hogwarts, with all its mystery and magic, Privet Drive was so very mundane and uninteresting that Harry had started to worry he might go mad over the holidays.

Hence, on the third day of his 'freedom', Harry was laying on his bed staring up at the sky, his mind slowly and lazily ticking over. Still stuck on Riddle's and the Headmaster's words, Harry's mind had come up with several questions. By how much were Riddle and he similar or different and what had made Riddle turn out the way he did? What could have happened if Harry hadn't chosen Gryffindor right back at the start? How much control did one have over their own choices and what choices had he made that he wasn't aware of?

If choices made one who they were, did one's choices also affect other things, things that couldn't choose for themselves?

It was that last question that had plagued his thoughts the most. It reminded him of his parseltongue ability and how the school had reacted to it. He had never _chosen_ to be able to talk to snakes - according to Dumbledore it was Voldemort's fault that he could - but it was the other students who had chosen to stigmatise him for it. It wasn't a choice they consciously made, but Parseltongue was something which already had a reputation - the students had just gone along with what was expected of them because of that reputation. It was interesting how the choices of a few witches and wizards in the past who used parseltongue for evil purposes had so much bearing on the present reaction to it.

Harry had gradually begun to apply this question to more and more things - spells, potions, certain magical creatures, even brooms - and had realised rather quickly that there was no easy answer. So many things could be used for so many purposes and yet most were classified quite strictly.

He had remembered a Charms lesson near the beginning of first year when Ron had used _wingardium leviosa_ on a book only for the spell to fail halfway and the book to fall onto the floor. Imagine, then, if it had been something else - a rat, or any of the other animals that they practiced with so often. Ron could have done quite a bit of damage, even broken some of the animal's bones. What if instead of a rat and a desk you had, say, a person and Hogwarts' several-hundred-metre high walls? Harry could just imagine some first years going up the Astronomy Tower to duel, one levitating the other then accidentally dropping them over the edge. In fact, Harry was surprised it hadn't happened before. Perhaps there were spells on the tower to prevent that exact situation from ever happening.

Such morbid thoughts had eventually reminded Harry of the few times he had heard people mention the Dark Arts - spells and potions supposedly focussed on causing pain and suffering. Here he had brought his thoughts to a stop, fearing where this train of thought was going. He remembered the fear people had of the Arts and the few things he had heard or read about them, and he refused to even contemplate them. No matter what he did not want to turn out like Voldemort and avoiding the Dark Arts was one choice he could make to ensure that.

A knock on the window caught Harry's attention and he dragged his mind from his thoughts, glad of a distraction. A flash of white outside had him scrambling up to open the window, a smile spreading across his face as Hedwig soared in to settle on the desk beside her cage.

"Hey girl." Harry left the window open, rushing over to welcome Hedwig back with a gentle scratch and pat. "Where have you been?"

Hedwig just blinked up at him in what could have been satisfaction - honestly, sometimes it was a little hard to tell - then clacked her beak a few times as she held out one leg. Harry, only just realising that she had been standing on one leg, reached to take whatever she had brought him. It took a moment and his hand meeting something that definitely _wasn't_ paper before he realised it wasn't a letter.

A mostly-brown snake with black stripes and a white belly was clutched in her talons. There were two wide white and black stripes just behind its head, like some kind of collar, but otherwise its colouring was quite uniform for all of its half-metre length. Its eyes - round, not slitted - were open and its jaw hung slack. All in all, it looked quite dead.

"Uh, Hedwig?" Harry glanced from the snake to his owl, surprised and confused. "Why did you bring me a snake?"

Hedwig just clacked her beak and dropped the snake onto the desk, hopping away and into her cage with a few beats of her wings. Harry stared after her for a moment before returning his attention to the snake. He had no idea what was happening. Hedwig did occasionally bring back mice and such from her hunts, showing them off to him before feasting, but never before had she brought back a snake or- or- _presented _it to him.

Reaching out with one hand, Harry gently ran his fingers over the snake's smooth scales. He had always considered snakes to be beautiful creatures, having had more than his fair share of encounters with them while gardening. A second later he pulled his hand back in surprise - not only was the snake still relatively warm but he could have sworn it had twitched.

Thinking quickly, knowing a cold-blooded animal needed heat to survive, Harry carefully picked up the snake, pooling its long body into his hands, before carrying it across the room to the window. He tipped his hands, letting the small body slide off his hands onto the window sill, then closed the window so that, if the snake did wake, it wouldn't slip out the window and fall two stories to the garden below.

Rather than collapsing back onto his bed, Harry dragged a chair over to the window, sitting just outside of what he assumed would be the snake's range if he decided to lunge upon waking. He was determined that if this snake really was still alive, he'd do his best to look after it. It was, after all, something to do, and helped with alleviating his boredom.

Besides, having someone to speak to, snake or no, would hopefully make the holidays pass a lot quicker.


	4. An Unusual Guest

Short chapter but, hey, I last updated two days ago or something. I considered combining this with the next chapter but I like the ending here way too much. And, with this, the story should be on almost 6000 words! In my old fics that would have been just one chapter, but apparently my brain won't let me write long chapters any more...

Thanks again to those who've reviewed! I really do like to hear what people think. Hopefully people might review more now that the interesting things are starting to happen.

**Question**: What do people think of the way I wrote the Parseltongue? I started with it just in italics, but I like the extra 's's. I'm just worried it might annoy people...

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It was a few hours later, just as the sun was dipping past the horizon, when the small snake finally woke, flicking its tail in a way reminiscent of a human stretching. Harry had just returned from finding himself a snack and was in the process of refilling Hedwig's food and water when she suddenly twisted her head, focusing on the window, and clacked her beak excitedly.

Harry turned just as fast, almost spilling the water he was holding, before hurriedly finishing his job so that he could race over to the small creature on the sill.

Nearing the snake, Harry slowed his footsteps, trying to not frighten it. Unfortunately the snake had already sensed Harry, and curled protectively in on itself, mouth gaping wide as a soft hissing escaped its throat.

"_Ssilly two-leg and winged-hunter. Thought they could creep up on me, did they? Thought they could trap me with thiss clear-web, did they? I'll attack, yesss, then esscape, and they won't be able to sstop me-"_

Harry stared at the irate snake, holding back a laugh at how confident it was, then grinned as he let his mind shift into a now familiar state.

"_Hello."_

The snake, had it have been human, would have jumped. As it was, its head and tail jerked as its tongue flickered out, tasting the air all around it. Harry saw it lean towards him then, as if dismissing the human, start peering around the room, tongue still sliding in and out frantically.

"_Who'ss there? Who ssaid that?"_

"_Me."_ Harry slowly sat down in the chair that still sat beside the window, keeping the snake's gaze as it watched him with curious eyes. _"I am Harry Potter. It is an honour to meet you."_

Surprise echoed through the snake's voice as it said, _"You are a two-leg."_

Harry smiled and extended one hand, stopping it a few centimetres from the snake's nose, palm up and open. He hoped that the peaceful gesture translated into the animal kingdom, because otherwise he was about to get bitten by a potentially venomous snake._ "Yesss, I am. But I can alsso sspeak to the great no-legsss like yoursself."_

Tail twitching to-and-fro, the snake slowly uncoiled until its head was almost touching Harry's hand, tongue flickering madly as it examined his scent. Suddenly it recoiled slightly, before it moved forward again, even closer than before, head brushing against Harry's hand, tongue brushing against his fingers. _"You ssmell like the Great Onesss - the no-legsss of power and death. But, it isss not on you, like a foreign sskin you've borrowed, but within. You are a two-leg; why do you ssmell of the Great Onesss?"_

Perplexed, at first Harry could only blink at the snake in surprise. Then his mind brought forward memories of the Chamber and the basilisk within and Harry smiled guiltily, forcing back the shivers that threatened to wrack his body. _"I met a Great One a-"_ Harry froze as he realised that 'a week ago' didn't translate - apparently snakes didn't measure time like humans, which made sense - before continuing, _"a little while ago."_

"_That doesss not explain why you ssmell of them sstill." _The snake paused for a moment, an unintelligible hiss replacing words. Harry assumed it was the snake version of humming, and gave it time to think. If, indeed, that's what it was doing. "_Did they bite you?"_

Harry held back a wince at the memory that surfaced then, hand automatically going to clench where he should have had a scar from the large bite wound on his arm. "_Yes. But a... winged-hunter of power," _here Harry guessed some of the words, knowing that 'phoenix' wouldn't translate and assuming that 'power' was 'magic' or at least close enough, "_healed me."_

The snake gave another hiss - this one sounding rather like a sigh - and its head drooped slightly, coiling back towards its body. "_You are lucky. I, and many otherss, would give anything to meet a Great One."_ Head lifting slightly, it added, "_How are they, the Great One?"_

Actually wincing this time, Harry nervously scrubbed one hand across the back of his head. "_Uh, dead."_

"_What!" _The snake's head whipped up to stare at him, and its tail swished agitatedly. "_How? Why?"_

"_It was threatening my- my nesst, and my nesst-matesss! I had to do ssomething, and then it bit me and- and-"_

Harry's voice choked off as memories and emotions washed over him. He could vaguely hear Hedwig's soft, concerned hooting from somewhere behind him but it hardly mattered then. Oh, what he wouldn't have done to have things turn out differently. Sure, everyone had been fine in the end and he'd destroyed the diary and the basilisk but, still, so many things could have gone wrong! Even as it was, he wished he hadn't had to kill the basilisk. It had been beautiful, deadly nature aside, and he would have much preferred to relocate it to somewhere safe, letting it live on. Maybe he could have talked to it, calmed it down and brought it under his control. If it was indeed a creature that Salazar Slytherin had placed there, then it would be a direct link to Hogwarts's Founders. The stories it could have told!

A cautious hissing and a gentle pressure on his hand drew Harry out of thoughts. The snake, voice crooning in a way that only snakes could, had wrapped itself around his fingers in a way that was almost comforting.

"_There are storiesss, brave two-leg Harry Potter, that each nest-mother passsesss down to her eggsss that tell of the two-leg Great Onesss - thosse who lie on level ground with our Great Onesss and who are the only two-legsss able to kill them. We sspeak of them with both fear and reverance, because it is from them that the two-leg speakers come. The few who hold such power and can Speak are very rare, but every snake is told at their hatching to listen out for them. We even have a name for them."_

"_A name?" _Harry repeated, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this snake wasn't mad at him for killing the Basilisk and apparently thought he was some kind of super-rare, super-powerful figure of snake mythology.

The snake hissed unintelligibly again, sounding awfully like it was laughing at him, and waved its head in what could have been a nod. Did snakes nod?

"_Do you know what we call those two-legsss, Harry Potter?"_

"_No. What?"_

"_We call them Lord."_


End file.
